I tried…but the blog will go, where the blog wants to go.

Well, I shouldn’t have promised to write a nice cozy blog today, because now there are expectations.  And when there are expectations, I freeze up and I can’t think of anything nice or cozy to say.  (I was going to say, “I can’t think of anything nice and cozy to say for the life of me.” I did actually write it, but then I erased it.  I got this weird superstitious feeling that maybe somebody would charge into the room and force me to write something that was both nice and cozy or something bad would happen to my life.  So, I quickly made good use of the delete button.)

Don is downstairs watching the third period of the Ottawa Senators/Pittsburgh Penguins game.  The Penguins won the last two play-off games so Don is happy.  He is crazy about that team, what with Sidney Crosby and Malkin and now with some great new guy, Marion Hoossa. 

Oops, Don just came up stairs all full of piss and vinegar.  I didn’t even have to ask him who won.  I could just tell by the jaunty way he came into my room, practically vibrating with we-did-it-again energy.  But, I’m a good wife.  I’m thoughtful.  So I asked him anyway.  “Who won, honey?” I said.

“The Penguins,” he said, beating a rat-a-tat-tat on his thighs.  Four to one.  Marion Hoossa scored his first NHL series goal in...” I’d like to give you the rest of this very exciting statistic, but my mind must have tuned him out, because I’m not 100% sure about what the final score was, or what the significance of Hoossa’s goal is.  I just said he said 4 to 1 because I think that’s what he said, but I can’t vouch for it. 

See, I don’t ask Don hockey questions because I’m interested.  I throw him a hockey bone every now and then so he won’t miss all his buds from California.  All his roller-blade hockey friends, lets go over to so-and-so’s house and watch the big game, kind of guy friends.  I throw him a hockey bone, so he won’t notice that since he moved up here to live with me, most of his hockey fun is not in the context of a group anymore.  I mean, Will will go to a game every now and then.  So will Dave when he can get off work and make the ferry in time.  And Don does play ball hockey, running around the gym with a few guys on Monday night.  But it’s not like he has a gang of friends anymore.

It’s a gang of one, mostly.  Me. 

I feel slightly guilty about this sometimes.  Especially when there is a real important game on TV.  Then I’ll make him cheese popcorn and a milkshake if he wants it, and sometimes I’ll even bring a book downstairs so he’ll have someone to high-five when a critical goal is scored.  But it’s an effort, because I don’t really get what’s so great about all that effort just to get a little black puck into the net.  And I really don’t like it when they are mean and fight, and throw off their gloves and rip off their helmets and pound their fists over and over into each others faces and bodies.  I don’t like it at all.

Hmm… This isn’t a “nice and cozy blog.” Oh well, that’s what happens sometimes.  I tried.  And at least it is a blog, so that’s something.

Posted by Meg Tilly on Monday, April 14, 2008 in

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